


Take My Breath Away

by LittleDancingRat



Category: Rocky Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Humor, Ivan basically replaces Adrian, M/M, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, au starting from the first Rocky movie, gay boxers, more tags as the chapters go on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23339020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDancingRat/pseuds/LittleDancingRat
Summary: Sitting on one of the benches was the biggest guy he had ever seen. His blonde hair stuck straight up and pointed every which way, his eyes were a piercing green-blue and held a very intimidating gaze. The dude was all muscle, hulking biceps, tight abs and strong, thick thighs and calves. Rocky noticed his sharp jawline leading to parted lips which split down the middle, the flaw proving to Rocky that he was a real person and not some perfect, stunning alien. He was like a piece of meat from Paulies work, broad shoulders and glistening with sweat. He'd surely just gotten out of a fight like himself. Even though the man was sitting down, Rocky could tell that if he were to stand up, the man would tower over the italian.Rocky realizes that he's gawking at the stranger.
Relationships: Rocky Balboa/Ivan Drago
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	Take My Breath Away

On a late Friday night a violence-hungry crowd screams at two men who circle eachother like starving lions ready to pounce. Hollering and cheering for one of the lions to draw first blood as they step around the other and circle like vultures. Multiple men bet on the physically superior one, hoping the weaker gets torn to pieces. A tall, lean fighter marches back and forth on his two feet, his agility and cocky attitude winning over the crowd. The other is much stiffer, his bowed posture and low energy makes him seem worn-out, and the fans are driven away by it, given a select few who have been to the rundown boxing gym a few rounds prior and have taken a liking to this certain boxer. 

The first punch is thrown, knocking the small one off balance. Then a second, third, the fourth is a hook that jumbles his brain up and he's unable to block the fifth. As he's leaning back onto the ropes to hold him up he takes a beating, praying for the bell to ring before his Subway sandwich comes right back up. 

It does eventually ring but by that point he can barely see out of his left eye. He also walks to the wrong corner. 

"Why don't you give this sucker some action, huh?" a hand is shoved into his mouth and he almost panics, thinking his whole row of teeth was jiggled loose and yanked out when he realizes it's just his mouth piece. Sweat pours off of him and his legs feel like jelly. He's just conserving his energy, right? Yeah, that's why he's holding back. He eyeballs his opponent across the ring. Rico looks much better off.

The two lock gazes and Rico mouths something foul, but he really can't pick out what it is. A tug on his pant leg pulls him out of the building intensity, "hey Rock, think you can last a while longer?" 

Rocky glances down and sees a disheveled man, he deduces that he just got off of work and after a hard week, hit up the old bar and went betting with a group of coworkers. He notices the stack of tens in the others hand. He shakes his head and huffs out what he tries to sound like a _yes_ but it comes out strangled, fortunately the guy got the memo and Rocky felt less embarrassed.

The gambler grinned and ran back to his group of guys, smacking down his stash onto their table. Rocky wishes he could be enjoying the match rather than fighting it.

The bell sounds again for round 3 and his mouthpiece is being shoved back in, but he's too exhausted to care about the fingernail that catches his gums and leaves a copper taste on his tongue.

Once again the crowd is roaring, the sound is impressive due to the severe absence of people. If it weren't for the reverberating basketball tiled floor there would only be an awkward scuffling of feet and the occasional grunt.

Spider Rico comes out swinging for the fences. Two haymakers and Rocky is struggling to stay upright. He is still yet to throw a punch worth anything. As he's being pelted by punch after punch, he finds an opening and is able to get inside on the other's reach advantage. _Wham!_ , he catches his opponent off guard, and as he stumbles to the side his hands expose his chin. Spider takes the punishment for it.

He's on the ground and Rocky stands over him. He hears the gym get louder and can't tell if it's a good thing or not. Everything is muffled and like he's hearing through wads of cotton in his ears. It might've been the shot to his temple.To be honest his temples really hurt right now. He should ask the doctor if he has a concussion after this, it'd be unsurprising but definitely not what he needed on his plate. Staying home due to something so small was stupid, but the problem was that the concussion could get so much worse. He's seen it happen to good men, boxers who just couldn't miss a day of training, gotta constantly be on the move. Those are the ones who end up in comas or even worse, Rockys been to a few funerals. 

A force strikes him in the gut, when did he get up?, causing Rocky to keel over and spit up onto the mat. Not real vomit, just saliva mostly, and he hears Spider recoil at the reaction with an _ugh!_ He takes it as a chance to push forward and force the other man into the ropes. He pounds on him, left, right, left, right with everything he's got. 

Then he notices Rico duck his head and take a step forward. Suddenly he has a splitting headache and blood is pouring into his right eye now making Rocky pretty much blind. The headbutt knocked both of them onto the floor but Rocky took most, if not, all of the damage. Referee really doesn't bat an eye, just let's them keep going at one another like wild animals. Boo's from the crowd erupted in the building.

Rico has always fought dirty, headbutts, elbows, you name it. This isn't the first time they've fought one another, Rocky knows all too well the kind of stuff Spider is willing to pull to win a match like this. One time they were getting ready for a match the next day and decided to help eachother out. Spider agreed to spar with him before he went home for the night. It was supposed to be touch sparring, nothing too crazy, it was simply for technique. The session started off fine, the two throwing a few jabs here and there, mixing in combos and focusing on footwork. Then Rocky went to go in for a body hook and the bastard spit in his face. LITERALLY SPIT HIS BODILY FLUIDS INTO HIS FACE. While he was caught off guard because of the sudden burning in his eye, Spider hit Rocky onto the ground with a solid uppercut. Even with the headgear on taking the brunt of it, the room still spun. Needless to say he doesn't spar with Spider anymore.

After recovering enough to stand, Rocky saw red (literally because blood was dripping into his eyelid) and charged the man. 

Spider was barely off the ground before Rocky threw a flurry of punches leaving no room to back away. He was on the mat again almost instantly but Rocky didn't stop there. He straddled the other mans waist and pounded his head into the ground. Spiders skull flipped back and forth until the referee finally counted to ten and two people had to peel Rocky off of him. Rico was out.

Rocky was dragged to his corner, trying to claw his way backwards to the unconscious body. He stopped once he realized the other showed no movement and his temper slowly fizzled out. 

As he watched Spider get carried away, he silently hopes the man is well. People are pulling his gear off him, boxing gloves and all. He's given a cold, damp towel and wraps it around his neck, relishing the freezing water that drips down his back. The referee begins to announce the next matchup before he even gets out of the ring, reminding Rocky that this is for pennies, and he wasn't just fighting for the world title. He recognizes the next boxer slink through ropes into his retired corner and wishes him well, half hugging the dark skinned man. He crawls through the ropes and notices the Gambler he spoke to collecting money from his buddies and waving it in their faces. Looks like he pulled it together for the guy tonight, didn't want to disappoint. He shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips and walks in the direction of the locker room. 

The walls are moving around in ways a wall most definitely doesn't and Rocky feels like he might puke again. He's forced to lean against foldable chairs and people's shoulders as he walks on shaky legs through the crowd. Some congratulate him on his performance while others sneer with empty pockets. A hand raises up with a cigarette, offering, and Rocky thanks him graciously, it's just what he needs. The burn in his lungs is soothing and he already feels better with just one hit. Before he can escape the wild group a small woman stands and turns around from nearest the ring. 

"Hey Rock!"

Rocky smiles, she's very pretty, long curly locks framing her adorable round red-dusted cheeks.

"You're a bum! You know that? A BUM." she yells, whipping back around and crossing her arms.

He frowns, dropping his head and quickly walks away.

As he's stumbling to the locker room door he notices the towel he's wrapped around his neck is soaked with red. Then he remembers his forehead is bleeding profusely. Rocky wishes he didn't notice, it's like as soon as you know you have a problem it starts to bother you. The wound burns so he pushes the towel onto it and it burns worse. God, he hasn't even seen the damage yet and he knows it's going to be bad. Dammit Spider. 

When Rocky finally trudges into the doorway of the room he doesn't bother to look around. He wants to sleep, so he sees a bed open, climbs up and lays out, exhaustion hitting him in a wave. A cold breeze slaps his face and wakes him right back up though, grumbling he reaches up and pulls his robe down from the coat hooks behind his head. Rocky runs a finger over the engraved text on the back, _The Italian Stallion._ Something he came up with a long time ago, earlier in his life where things really weren't that much different than they are now. He doesn't have time to admire it too long before another gust of air makes him shiver violently and he has to pull it over his arms. Leaning his head back against the abandoned jackets behind, he takes a long drag of his cigarette and huffs it out in a breath. There's an open window by the top of the ceiling, he silently curses it. 

Something resided a few feet below it, something large. His eyes trail down to a man and he _very_ audibly gasps.

Sitting on one of the benches was the biggest guy he had ever seen. His blonde hair stuck straight up and pointed every which way, his eyes were a piercing silver and held a very intimidating gaze. The dude was all muscle, hulking biceps, tight abs and strong, thick thighs and calves. Rocky noticed his sharp jawline leading to parted lips which split down the middle, the flaw proving to Rocky that he was a real person and not some perfect, stunning alien. He was like a piece of meat from Paulies work, broad shoulders and glistening with sweat. He'd surely just gotten out of a fight like himself. Even though the man was sitting down, Rocky could tell that if he were to stand up, the man would tower over the italian. 

Rocky realizes that he's gawking at the stranger.

His face flushes and he quickly looks down, nervously taking a drag of his cigarette. He glances up really quick and finds that the blonde is staring right back, watching Rocky's labored breathing, his stomach fills with butterflies and his throat dries out. But he simply points to his perfect chiseled cheek, and Rocky gets the message. Blood ran down his chest and had dripped into his lap, it felt like the split in his head kept growing. Rocky wipes up the liquid and presses his towel against the wound, this time keeping it there. The towel was mostly dried out now and did nothing but smear the liquid around his face, the boxer lets out a groan, he's too tired. He closes his eyes and tries to relax, despite feeling eyes on him.

Eventually Spider Rico comes stumbling into the room and he throws himself onto the same bench as the other guy. He disregards the blonde and stretches his legs out. Rocky finds the stranger staring at him(rocky) with an unreadable expression, and the Italian almost says something before Spider pipes up from where he's splayed out. 

"You really got lucky tonight." his eyes, despite unfocused, were looking for another fight.

The italian breaks eye contact to glare at Spider, he's not in a talking mood and knows that if Spider keeps the conversation going there's gonna be a round 4. So instead he puffs and then puts out his cigarette under his shoe, flicking it on the floor.

Another person walks into the room right as Rocky just about gets settled and he almost screams. Then he realizes its his paycheck talking. The man stands over Spider, handing him cash, then comes to Rocky, calculating up the bets on him tonight. He's handed 2 twenties and 50 cents. Rocky stares at it.

"When do I fight again?"

"Maybe two weeks, gimme a call. Doctor'll be in about twenty." Then he leaves.

Rocky looks at his paycheck again. A concussion, split brow, and black eye for this? Rocky stuffs the money into his jacket pocket. He's too tired to think about other ways of getting through the next few weeks but he's stressed now and sleep won't come. Although he wasn't in a rush to get beaten around again just yet, forty bucks could only get him a few meals. Two weeks was too long. Rocky fell back and decided to just stare ahead at the open window, wishing he was one of the moths swarming the light pole outside instead. His legs were numb, the act of just sitting still and nothing to focus on but pain was unbearable. It made him notice the pounding headache and bruised, possible broken ribs. He needed some distraction. 

Rocky sighs and looks to Spider to strike up a conversation but the man was passed out, mouth hanging open in a soft snore. Instead, he dared a glance at his large onlooker who was picking at the fabric around his hands, picking off pieces and flicking them on the tiled floor. He looked very out of place. 

"You're a pretty big guy," it wasn't the best way to start a conversation but if he didn't feel like he was about to spit up again then maybe he would've cared.

The man looked up at Rocky, the icy stare making him involuntarily shiver. Why does he keep doing that? The flutter in his chest is back in full force and Rocky tries his best to push it down and away, that's only something he's supposed to get with girls not _him._ He stared at the italian, eyeing him up and unresponsive. 

"I'm Rocky, are you new around here? I've never seen you fight before and I know a lot of guys come through here but I think I would've noticed you sticking out of the crowd." He gestured with his hands, "You're a whole building!" the small movement made him wince in pain but he smiled warmly.

The blonde scanned his expression suspicious at first, Rocky can't really tell what the guy is thinking, before he responded, "Ivan Drago." Rocky raised his brows, surprised hearing the very thick accent. 

"Wow you aren't from anywhere near Philly-" he laughs, "where'd you come from, Germany? Vienna? Britain? Wait scratch that, you're definitely not british..."

"Soviet Russia," Ivan says it with a hint pride in his voice.

Rocky shakes his head comically, "That's very far away from here, it makes sense though. Russian fits your... size. Ivans a very russian name too, I don't know how I didn't catch onto that." Rocky isn't ever thinking very clearly. "So why'd youse come here?"

Ivan stares vacantly at him. Rocky doesn't pick up on a mood change though, the russian has the worlds most effective poker face.

Then he backtracks, suddenly feeling he stepped too far. "I'm not trying to dog you or nothing-" his face flushes and he starts to feel very faint. He adjusts the rag on his cut, "just curious s'all." He decides to change the subject, "so do you know english real well?"

The russian shrugs tilting his hand back and forth, "good enough."

"That's good, that's real good," he shifts in his seat, stretching his legs out, the simple movement makes him hiss in pain. He brushes off the concerned look thrown his way. Wonder if it's been twenty minutes yet. "How long you been waiting?"

"One hour."

"Great," Rocky examined him again, the man was fully facing him now and he could only see a few bruises on his abdomen. "You don't look too banged up, why not take off? Better than sittin' back here with the rats." Rocky pulls his jacket around him a little tighter.

The russian sighs, "nowhere to go."

A pang of sympathy passes though him, "that's rough." Then he shoots up in alarm, startling the other man in their calm atmosphere, "you haven't been sleeping on the streets have you?!" When he doesn't receive a response he panics, "how long?"

Ivan shrugs, looking at the ceiling to think, "few weeks maybe." He picks at his hand wrap again, "I shower here, use money for food. Fighting isn't enough for house."

Rocky doesn't even think before he says it, "I have an apartment a few miles from here, it ain't much but I got a pretty comfy couch." He surprises Ivan and himself with the offer, willingly inviting a total stranger into his home upon first meeting. Rocky almost takes it back but finds he doesn't really want to. He doesn't understand why either. Maybe it's because they had a whole lot in common, they were both down on their luck, and they both fought. That was enough to become roommates, right? 

Ivan considers the offer for a moment, completely caught off guard. But he has manners, maybe if they end up running into eachother again. It's likely seeing as how they go to the same boxing gym, and Ivan, despite himself, looks forward to it. "Thank you but I don't want to-" he tries to think of the american word for it. _Interlude? Instruct. Introduce. Intrude maybe? No not that one..._ "-be in the way."

Rocky shrugs, "let me know if you change your mind, but stay careful out on the streets. People are crazy sometimes." Another wave of nausea passes through him and the room starts spinning. He hears a scuffle of shoes on tile and suddenly he finds himself on the ground. His burnt out cigarette inches away from his face. The last thing he hears is his name frantically being called and hands pulling him upright before he blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may take a small while. Hope you guys like this! I've also gone back and edited a few things. Rocky's probably fine...


End file.
